“I’ll have to tell him something, Mr. Stanton. Joe will want to know why his father went away, and where. Isn’t there any way in which we may get a clue to the direction he took?”

 

“Wait a minute until I think, lad,” said the old man. “It may be that we can find a clue, after all. Nate Duncan left some papers behind. I haven’t looked at ’em, not wishing to make trouble, but there may be a clue there. I’ll get ’em.”

 

“And I’ll call Joe in to go over them with me,” said Blake. “He’ll want to see them.”

 

“But, mind you, not a word about what I’ve told you.”

 

“No, I’ll keep quiet,” promised Blake. “I’ll call him in, while you get the papers.”

 

Going to the door of the little cottage, Blake called to his chum.

 

“What is it?” asked Joe, eagerly. “Was there some mistake? Is my father somewhere around here, after all?”

 

“Well, we hope to find him,” said Blake, with an assurance he did not feel. “Look here, Joe, your father went away rather suddenly, it seems, but you mustn’t think anything about that. He’s been traveling all over, you know, looking for you and your sister——”

 

“Sister?” cried Joe.

 

“Yes, you had a sister, though I can’t get much information about her. Neither could your uncle tell you, as you remember.”

 

“That’s right. Oh, if I could only find dad and her!” and Joe sighed. “But maybe she isn’t alive.”

 

“It’s this way,” went on Blake, and he told as much of the lighthouse keeper’s story as was wise, keeping from Joe all information about the wreckers. “Now, your father may have heard of some new clue about you,” continued Joe’s chum, “and he may have gone to hunt that up,” which was true enough, for with the warning that he was likely to be arrested as a criminal, there may have come to Mr. Duncan some information about his missing children.

“But in that case,” asked Joe, “why didn’t he leave some word as to where he was going?”

 

“He may have been in too much of a hurry,” suggested Blake, realizing that he was going to have considerable difficulty in keeping Joe from guessing the truth.

 

“Well, perhaps that’s so,” agreed the lad. “But maybe Mr. Stanton has some clues.”

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